Canadian diary
by deactivatesandwhich
Summary: Did you know Canada has a diary?. Minour lime content in chapter 4. See chapter 5 for The World Meeting Valentine's Day Party. See chapter twelve for Switzerland being intimidating. See chapter 17 for the coolest explanation of Early Canadian History ever. I obviously don't own Hetalia. I don't deserve to own Hetalia.
1. Chapter 1

Canada's diary

Monday, 9th of February 2015

Welcome, dear reader. My name is Canada or Matthew Williams.

Canada is that huge country above America. I don't understand how anybody could fucking miss it. But they do.

So obviously, I am not a landmass if I am writing this. No, I am the human personification of Canada. I am a slightly mystical being. I represent the stereotypes and beliefs of the people of Canada. There are others like me. There is a personification for almost every nation in the world.

Being what I am, I have a job in the government. My job is to assist the prime minister in making decisions. I know better than anybody what is right for the country.

So a few more things about me: I have a talking baby polar bear named Kumajiro or Kumejijo or something. More on him later.

My favourite food is pancakes with maple syrup and strawberries. There have been days where I have eaten pancakes for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Finally, I have a jackass twin brother named Alfred. He is America.

Eh, well now that you have gotten to know me, we can move on to the interesting thing that happened to me last night. I was going to bed. It was around 22:30 o'clock. I was facing the wall with my eyes closed and Kuma was curled up at my feet. That's when I start to hear a gurgling noise. It is like somebody snorting some snot back while holding water in their mouth. It sounded like it was outside my door. Then the noise grew closer and sounded like it was beside my bed. I had that feeling like somebody was staring at the back of my neck. I did not open my eyes to turn around and check. I had just been reading a ghost story earlier that day so my reaction to this strange occurance was to say: "Hello Ghost. Kindly stop your gurgling noise and leave. I am trying to sleep." And you know, the gurgling noise stopped and the weird staring feeling went away. That was the truly scary part.

Well, until tomorrow, goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

Tuesday, 10th of Febuary, 2015

Three people bumped into me yesterday at the shopping centre. It's nothing new. I know I don't stand out very much. At least one guy apologised back to me. Often, fellow countries forget that I exist. Sometimes I get mistaken for my brother. Normal people tend to notice me more. I admit I am not the most memorable or interesting guy. I feel maybe I am like a yawn with a hoodie.

However, the internet has good documentation on Canadians. There are over 100 Urban Dictionary definitions about Canada and Canadians. Here are a few of my favourites:

Canadian tuxedo:

Denim jacket and jeans

Canada bomb:

Dropping a shot of maple syrup into Molson.

Canadabalism:

The act of eating a Canadian.

Canada Blast:

When you ejaculate all over someone and apologise profusely while doing so.

And my personal favourite:

Canada Face:

How you can think that a person looks American, but then there is something off.

There is this girl named Lili that I like. She is so sweet and gentle and cute. She has green eyes that remind me of the Northern forest when one sees them from a distance. You know, dark, impenetrable matte green. I would put a move on her, but I think Switzerland will try to kill me if I do. I have only talked to her a couple of times. I wonder if she even remembers me.

There is a world meeting valentines party on Friday. I was previously thinking about not going, but maybe I will. I feel like the world is overdue for one of this invisible man's pranks. Also, I will probably see Lili. That would be the most appropriate time to talk with her. I don't always go to these events. I am usually ignored and would generally rather go fishing anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

Wednesday, 11th of Febuary, 2015

I am a pretty chill guy. I wasn't always though. I used to have a problem with change and a bit of a temper. That's probably why I burned down America's house in 1812.

One day about 75 years ago, I decided "What the hell, my world is going to keep changing, it's not worth being upset over. I should try to find some things that make me happy, things I can do on any given day. If I keep a focus on doing fun things, I will live a happier life." I found I like to read and cook and go fishing and hockey and swimming. I like to watch My Little Pony, Friendship Is Magic. These days I just let change happen really smoothly and I try to stay out of drama. I don't get upset as often. Sometimes really unexpected and fun things happen.

Yes, that's right. I said I like My little Pony. I am an unashamed Bronie. England got me into the fandom. My favourite Pony in the main six is Fluttershy. I feel I can really relate to her. I also feel like Fluttershy also has something in common with Liechtenstein.

There exists My Little Pony furry porn. It is disturbing as shit. I stumble upon it when I was googling My Little Pony with my safe search turned off. You know, even though I was disgusted, I was also intrigued. Never again. /blushes wildly/

I am making plans to sweep Lili off her feet on Friday. I think the key is to extract her from the crowd so her full attention is on me.

Today America showed up at my house at the ungodly hour of 6 AM. He just let himself in and woke me up by pouncing on my bed. Then he demanded breakfast. Apperantly we are going to help with the setting up of the venue for the valentines day event. We are leaving in 20 minutes. Oh no, America is looking over my shoulder. He is laughing at my choice of television shows.

Hey America.

Yeah, I am addressing you.

FUCK OFF BRO.


	4. Chapter 4

Y U NO REVIEW? I CANT FEEL YOUR LOVE?

Okay, moderately dirty lime warning in this chapter.

Thursday, 12 of February, 2015

Last night, Alfred and I went to a pub. We seemed to have two different motives. My Brother was there to score free love, I was there to score a few drinks off my brother. I had no intention of picking up girls. It didn't work out that way.

So there I was, finishing my second beer alone in a booth, when a shadow was cast over my table. I looked up to see a curvy Asian woman of about 30 years old wearing a red halter top and a Knee lenth denim skirt with a butterfly embroidered on it. "You look lonely," she said. Mind if I sit down here?"

"That's fine."

She took a good look at my face. "Wow, I have never seen eyes your colour before. Your eyes look like Amethyst." "Thank you." I blushed.

"You're so cute. What's you're name?"

"Matthew."

She switched seats so she was right next to me.

"My name is Victoria Toshiba." She finally introduced.

"So was I right, are you lonely, Matt?"

"Victoria, have you ever been to Victoria, British Columbia?"

"Um, no, is it beautiful?" She inquired.

"Very."

"Am I beautiful?"

"Very."

She did seem to have a very nice curve to her hips and thighs, also a cute nose and great hair.

"Do you like trees?" She asked.

"Sure."

"Do you want to come over to my house and see my garden?"

I think that was the best pick up line I have heard in a long time. I decided it might be okay to go home with this woman.

"I'd love to see your garden."

I completely ditched Alfred. He had already forgotten about me anyway.

She lived in a white and grey Greek style home. Pillars on the porch, the whole shebang. Her living room was decorated red and black gothic. She also had good taste in paintings.

"You have a nice house, you must have a good career." I complimented her.

"Yeah, I am a lawyer."

She set her purse down and took off her full length trench coat and hung it over the back of a red velvet upholstered chair. Victoria led me over to a bay window in the dining room. "Don't the aspen trees just look amazing with that snow on them?" she sighed.

"Sure."

She turned around and grinned mischeiviously.

"I bet you're a virgin." She said.

"But I'm not." I said.

"Oh well, that makes things easier."

She stepped forward, backing me into the dining room table. She reached with both hands and stroked the hair at the back of my head and tugged on my ahoge. Then she leaned in and her lips locked onto mine. I reached for her butt and pushed her stomach up against my crotch. I ground into her and she pushed her tongue into my mouth and felt around on my could be cleaner teeth. She was a great kisser. I was wondering if my breath smelled bad. I reached my hands up behind her neck and started to untie the strings to her halter top. She freed he lips from my mouth long enough for me to pull her shirt over her head.

I am going to stop typing now. Use your imagination.


	5. Chapter 5

Friday, 13th of February, 2015

Today I went to the Valentine's party. I have many reasons to be happy. God, I am so happy.

Here is what happened:

America and I arrived together at 8:30 AM. We were one of the firsts to arrive because we were on the planning committee. Veniziano and Romano were already there. "Hey, it's the pasta bros!" America exclaimed and ran up to hug them. "Get your filthy hands off me." Romano groaned. I headed to the storage room to prepare my prank. In the storage room is the circuit board for the whole building. On Wednesday, I had made a device that connected to the circuit board it would play a VHS tape for two hours and when the tape reached its end, the circuit board would temporarily shut down. I then had 10 minutes to crawl up into the space above the celling were I had stored buckets of cheap children's valentine's day cards last night and release them through the movable ceiling boards into the darkened room below. They will never know who did it, except Alfred who is knowledgeable of my plan.

Soon other countries started to arrive. For several minutes, I watched the goings on from my location kneeling beside the garbage bin in the corner. Then I saw her. She looked so pretty with a green dress the colour of her eyes and with ribbons in her hair. Liechtenstein had arrived holding hands with Switzerland. She went straight to the refreshments table (Courtesy of the Vargas brother's personal catering service.) She grabbed a cup of punch and a plate of tiramisu. Then she sat down at one of the chairs lining the wall. I checked to see where her big brother was. He was having a conversation with Austria. I worked up the courage to go talk to her. "I should do it while Switzerland is distracted." I thought. I seriously did not want a confrontation with him. I stood up and walked over.

"Um, hello Liechtenstein. I don't know if you remember me, but I am Canada. I, uh, well, would you consider taking a walk with me?"

Lili looked up. "Oh. How do you do. Yes, I think maybe I recall having met you before. As for taking a walk, I should probably ask my big bruder."

Damn it.

She headed over to him while I stood by her chair cringing. Then I realised their exchange seemed to be going well. She walked back to me smiling and said. "Alright, I have permission."

I checked my watch. I had one hour and 5 minutes before the lights were to go out.

Liechtenstien and I headed out the door. Nobody seemed to notice us leave. We stopped and stood awkwardly in the hallway. "So, do you want to head out to the court yard?" I asked.

"Okay, let me go grab my jacket." she replied.

"Okay. Me too."

A few minutes later.

I held the courtyard door open for Liechtenstein and she stepped through, then me. We stood facing each other on the granite tiled walkway between rows of dormant, wintery rose bushes. I plucked a rose consisting of a few shriveled pink petals hanging on for dear life. "A rose for the princess." I said. She giggled and took the pathetic thing.

"Why did you want to talk to me in private?" Lili inquired.

"Well, you are the sweetest, cutest, most gentle female of our kind. I would like to get to know you better. I would like to ask you to be my Valentine."

She blushed. "Yes, of course, but don't tell my bruder or France."

"I wouldn't dare." I said.

For the next hour I proceeded to flirt in a way that would make both France and England proud. I even got her cellular phone number. I totally forgot about my prank until a few partiers burst into the courtyard complaining to each other about all the lights going out.

Forget the prank. I will have to retrieve the Valentine's cards from the ceiling crawlspace some other time.


	6. Chapter 6

Saturday, 14 of February, 2015

I don't really have much to say. I wrote a quite long entry yesterday. It was twice as long as I required it to be, so I guess I don't even feel obligated to write much.

Hmm. Well, I follow 4 news sources regularly. It is nessecery for my job to know the same news from multiple sources. I follow CBC, BBC, CNN. I also sometimes get information from The Guardian and the Huffington Post. I noticed that after all this time, BBC still gives regular reports of the Revolution in Ukraine. CNN was one of the first to stop coverage of that story back in early May 2014.

There is this one particular news station in America that is simply ludicrous. It is known as Fox News. If you can even call it news. It should be called Fox Mad Rantings. In response to Steve Emerson's discussion on the terrorist attacks in Paris, British prime minister David Cameron said "This man is clearly a complete idiot." (By the way, I am typing this on my Kindle Fire. When I wrote in the word 'clearly' the first option on auto suggest was 'canadian'.) Let's play with auto suggest a little bit. It will suggest 3 options for what it thinks the next word I will type will be. I will have to pick one and we will continue on like that. These suggestions are based off of words I have frequently typed. Okay start: hetalia england in the morning of the only thing that you can use it for and I was just wondering what the cat is real estate agent who was the first to be able to make me feel better about my favourite colour of the first time since I've been thinking about you and American hair is real life of the cat food. Okay end.

Anyway, about Fox News. How is it possible that a news station can be so ignorant and angry, albeit it is an American one? I did a little research. Rupert Murdoch is the guy who owns many American news sources including fox news. He also owns shares of stock in oil companies that operate in the middle east. In order for his shares to be successful he needs the unrest in the middle east to continue. In order for the wars to continue he needs the continual unhelpful intervention of the Untied States. Mainly bombing. In order for the continual intervention to occur, the majority of the American people (or just those in power)need to vote for this to happen. Murdoch then issues his people up in Fox News headquarters to spin the news in such a way that the viewers think that everybody in the middle east is evil and gonna take over the world so the only solution must be to bomb them. Literally, the reason fox news is so inaccurate is so a few share holders can continue to be Super rich. It is selfish and it makes me sick. Get your shit together America.

Wow. That is a lot of words for supposedly having nothing to say.


	7. Chapter 7

Sunday 15 of February, 2015

Today I called Liechtenstein and our phone conversation went something like this:

"Ah, Hello Lili. It's Canada."

"Good morning, Canada. How are you?"

"Fine." I said.

"Listen, they figured out why the lights went out at the party. Apparently somebody had connected some sort of timing device to interrupt the the flow of the circuits in the power box at a specific time. I wonder who could have done that and why." Lili informed me.

"Gee, I don't know." I lied.

"Anyway, Japan and Germany are currently investigating. Germany thinks the lights going out could have been used to create chaos in order to divert our attention away from somebody stealing important documents or something like that. He says the culprit had to be somebody in the planning commitee or anybody else there before 8:45, that narrows it down to the Vargas brothers, America, Ukraine and Hungary."

"Eh, I see. Hey, would you like to meet me over At Spain's cafe tomorrow?" I asked.

"Oh sure, okay!"

"Bye."

"Bye."


	8. Chapter 8

Tuesday, 17 of February, 2015

First of all, before i tell you what Lili and i did yesterday, I should tell you, my boss grounded me for kicking a door in. There was a box in front of a office door. but i thought it was just jammed, so i kicked it, and it actually came off the hinges. I didn't think it would break. Now, i have to pay to replace a door. My boss said I wouldn't be grounded if I wasn't such a kiss-ass after he discovered the destruction. I am being punished, not for busting a door, but for apologising too profusely and giving too many excuses.

Anyway, I bet you want to know how I am getting along with Lili.

Spain runs a cafe in his spare time. It's a shitty place with too many decorations, but good churros. Spain's cafe is called "Cafe Bastardo." Romano works there too on occasion. The Cafe is a common meeting place for nation personifications.

I arrived in Spain looking like a dolt because it was really nice outside there, but I was still wearing a fur lined coat and snow boots because I had just come from Toronto, where it was freezing and icy. Standing outside the entrance to the Cafe, Liechtenstein leaned up against the pink outside wall with her arms crossed. What was with that body language? Was I late?

"Are you alright?" I inquired. "You looked a bit mad a minute ago."

"I am fine, thank you for asking." She replied. " I am just a bit insecure because i do not have permission to be here."

"Do you want to go home?" I suggested.

"No, let's just go inside."

We went inside and sat down at a table next to a large window. outside the window was a private courtyard with a dry fountain and a couple bycycles. Spain arrived at our table and I think Romano was in the kitchen. "Hello, Liechtenstein dear, may I take your order? and oh, wait, who is your friend? Spain said cheerfully.

"I'm Canada." I whispered dejectedly."Whe have met before."

"You have a strange accent? Where are you from?"

"I am named Canada and I am from Canada."

Liechtenstein and I ended up only ordering a cappichinio each. Also, Spain seemed to avoid us after his mistake.

"What do you think the theme of this cafe could be?" I asked Lili, looking around at the various decorations. There were fake palm trees in a corner and a shrine to Holy Mother Mary in an alcove and a metal statue of a man sized cat in a tuxedo in the middle of the room, among other things.

"I would have to say the theme of this cafe is actuallya story: the Catholic marriage of two monster cats in the tropics." Liechtenstein laughed.

"Where is the bride cat, Eh?"

"She ditched her fiance at the altar to go run away with that ballerina in that picture over there." She continued.

I leaned in across the table. "Have you heard the rumour, do you think Romano and Spain may be dating?" I whispered.

"I have, but it wasn't a rumour. they are definatly dating?" she smirked.

I checked the location of our two hosts. "How do you think their relationship works? They are on the polar ends of the temperment spectrum?"

"I bet they have some very funny arguments." Liechtenstien giggled quietly. She leaned in and then I leaned in. "Pardon me for my crudeness, but who do you think tops during the, you know. Is Romano even gay? He seems like such a ladies man." She whispered.

"Eh, who knows. I bet it is Spain, maybe."

Shortly, we left the cafe. "I had a really great time." Liechtenstein said. "We had some really fun conversation." Then Lili leaned in on her tiptoes, but then had to pull my head in and she preceded to kiss me on the left cheek. Then she turned and started walking in the other way.

(I dreamt you gave me reviews last night. Make my dreams come true.)


	9. Chapter 9

Wednesday, 18 of February, 2015

Ugh, I do not feel at all like writing, but I have important stuff to say. Why haven't people invented a way to just type using only your brain. We have computers in our pockets but not this. Frankly, smart phones seem like sorcery to me. I still, to this day can't get over how cool airplanes are. I stopped being able to understand what makes technology work about a hundred years ago.

America rang me today. This is how the conversation went.

"Yo, Hungary took the blame for your little device from the Valentine's day party!" He announced.

"Why would she do that? She doesn't even know who really did it, does she?"

"Why don't you try to find out. But hey, lucky us, we are off the hook."

"I will find out, but I can't let her take the blame for something she didn't do." I said. I personally know how wrong that feels.

"You gonna come clean?" America sounded surprised.

"No, I need to make this look like an outside job. A failed outside job that no one will investigate further. Tell me, do you know if they found the blank Valentine's day cards in the ceiling?"

"I don't think so."

After the phone conversation I started to come up with a plan. First, I needed to find out why Hungary confessed to something she didn't do. I think I will need Liechtenstein to help with that, I think she will have to be told the truth in order to get out of Hungary what I need to hear. Then, I need to visit the scene of the prank and pick up my cards. I will also need to create false evidence leading Germany and Japan to believe the culprit was a person outside of our circles. Also, i need to find out if anyone had actually stolen anything that day. Germany and Japan have probably figured that out by now.

I need to contact Liechtenstein right now.

Seriously, knowing you didn't do something while everyone else thinks you did is the one of the worst feelings I can think of. The guilt knowing you actually did the thing and just letting someone else take the blame is one of the worst types of guilt you can feel.

And why did this harmless prank have to turn into a crime scene cover up? Actually, this happens too frequently in the government. Nothing can be simple. Everybody has to be suspicious.


	10. Chapter 10

Hello, one person in China reading this story.

Thursday, 19 of February, 2015

Today I awoke with this thought on my mind: je suis un pomme.

Usually I dream about politics or hockey because my brain picks up the collective conscious of my people's worries in my sleep. Sometimes this can lead to some very confusing or scary jumbled dreams when a general majority consensus cannot be reached.

Lili was over at Elizaveta's (Hungary's) house talking to her about what happened at the Valentine's party. I told her about the prank. She said she doesn't think I did anything wrong. It was just a harmless prank. She agreed to help me clear myself and Hungary's name.

Today I snuck in to the world meeting building to retrieve the Valentine's day cards. I wasn't ready to do anything more than that. It was ridiculously easy to sneak past the guards at the front door. They didn't even see me. I soon realised Japan was in the main meeting room where we had held the party. Japan was a hired assassin way back in the day, so he is trained to notice what others don't. I wasn't quite secure about my usual invisibility with him around. He might see me. I thought maybe he could be lured outside. I hid in a closet and got my cellular phone out and began the process of ordering Japanese take out addressed for him. I told the delivery people not to hand over the food unless a short oriental man or a teenager with shaggy blonde hair and a beige coat came to get it. Did you know these days you can pay over the phone? I feel like nearly everybody I know can be perceived as either a short asian man or a teenager with shaggy blonde hair.

I eventually got inside where I needed to be and retrieved what I needed to get. Later that day I heard back from Liechtenstein. Apparently Hungary had spies who were on a mission and hiding in the building that day of the party. She doesn't know exactly what they were up to, but she couldn't let anybody know they had been there. She thought they had made my timed circuit breaker device. She has to take the blame for it. I feel bad that she doesn't know she had to lie for me, but I can't interfere with this. It might created further trouble for her.


	11. Chapter 11

Sunday, 22 of February, 2015.

I missed two days writing this diary. I was so busy.

On Saturday, a member of the terrorist group Al Shabaab posted a video on YouTube encouraging terrorist attacks on shopping centres across the western world, including one of which was West Edmonton Mall in Alberta. Important police are investigating the legitimacy of this video. So far they see no immediate threat to Canadian security, still, additional security forces are to be applied at this shopping centre. If this was America, nearly the whole country would be angry and freaking out, but this is Canada, we're a bit more chill than some people, so the only people freaking out are mainly those in the Edmonton area and a few of the more conservative types elsewhere.

Today I volunteered at a food distribution centre for needy people. My job was to stand behind a counter and pass out oranges. Sometimes I am required to do community service because things like this seem to improve my ability to perceive the needs of the people. Interacting with members of a group of special government interest means I increase my chances of dreaming about it that night. So, what can I do to help the lower class.

The people in charge of the distribution centre did not my true identity.

Tonight when I was watching My little Pony and trimming Kumajiro's claws I heard from someone I had hoped to avoid. Switzerland. He said: "I understand you are responsible for the temporary disappearance of my little sister last Monday. I was unaware of her where abouts for 4 whole hours. I want you to meet me at my house tomorrow and confront me like a man or you will never speak to Lili again. Heck, if I don't approve of you dating her, you still might not."

I'm scared, but I must show up or, you know.

There was extra food left over from the food distribution centre today, so they had the volunteers take some home. I am sorry to admit I ate a whole foot long cinnamon iced baguette for dinner. Haha. I am truly Alfred's brother. We both deserve to weigh about 40 kilograms more than we do. ; ( I think Al has McDonald's for every meal and my diet consists mostly of pastries and Kraft Dinner.


	12. Chapter 12

Monday, 23 of February, 2015 (The author wishes to write a tiny diary entry of their own. Today It was a no uniform day, so I went to school cosplayed as Germain (Germany x Spain) with a military green jacket with black collar open to show a black Tshirt and Khaki shorts and brown bandage wrappings around my lower legs and black combat boots. A girl described my outfit as "A sexy zoo keeper." I also wish to say that I have started a new Fanfiction today called Two Dimensions: China x Hello Kitty. If you like this story you can look it up.)

Today i went to see Switzerland in order to earn the right to date Lili. I thought it was going to be a civil matter where we talk about my past and things, boy was i wrong. It more resembled a doctor's appointment.

I arrived this morning to Vash's house (cough palace cough) and rang his door bell. A few minutes later, he opened the door and said something in German, but I suspect it was "What do you want. I don't need whatever you're selling." Lili appeared behind him, smiled at me and whispered something in his ear. "Come in, come in. Take off your coat and shoes." My host said this time not in German, but in the nations' shared language.

I was very nervous. I was standing in the spacious, elegant foyer with Switzerland staring at me. It wasn't a kind look or a mean look. He looked me over like a bored king surveying his land. Then he spoke. "Come sit down in the parlour. I have something for you." To Liechtenstein he requested "Why don't you go get me some tea, sweetheart."

I sat in his parlour on his floral print sofa and Switzerland passed me a piece of paper and a pen. On the paper were these questions, which i answered:

1\. What is your name?

Canada or Matthew (Matthieu) Williams.

2\. What is your height?

I don't know. 170-175 cm, I am guessing.

3\. What is 247 x 4 ?

=988 ( this took me a couple of minutes.)

4\. How many and which languages do you speak?

English, French and Nationspeak. A bit of German.

5\. Are you for or against civilians having guns?

Depends on what they are being used for. Depends on what type of gun it is. I own a hunting rifle for deer season.

6\. Have you ever had any sexually transmitted diseases?

EEhh? That's a bit personal. No.

7\. Have you ever done Hallucinagenic Drugs?

No.

After Vash read the paper, he looked up at me, frowning. He got out of his seat and moved over, crouching, to where I sat. He put his face closed to mine and said. "You have glasses. Are you near sighted or far sighted?"

I was experiencing some social anxiety at this point. Switzerland was turning out to be a very strange man. "I I am n-near sighted." I stuttered. That's what I do when I am uncomfortable. I stutter and speak really quietly.

"Show me your teeth." He grimaced for emphasis. He was trying to inspect me in the same way one inspects a horse you might want to buy.

Luckily, Liechtenstein came in the room with the tea just then. "Excuse me, what are you doing big bruder?" she sounded concerned.

"I have to make sure his teeth are in good shape." Switzerland said.

"Come sit down and drink your tea, big bruder. I don't think that's necessary, Mattie is quite healthy." She set the tray down and when Switzerland wasn't looking, she mouthed sorry to me, pointed at him, and pointed to her head in a way that says "He's crazy."

Things went alright for the next hour until I was ready to leave. The last thing Switzerland said to me was this: "You will treat her like a princess and respect her and not violate her personal space. If I here you have been treating her less than perfect, I will tear off your testicles. For the record, I think you are a wussy twink, but that is exactly the kind of man Lili should have. Now evacuate my country before I change my mind."

I had to look up the definition of twink.


	13. Chapter 13

Tuesday, 24 of February, 2015

I have not gone home yet. I haven't even left Europe yet. Yesterday, I found a satchel on a bench. Nobody else was in the entire park. In side the satchel I found a train ticket to Brussels, Belgium, unused. The train left today at 10:00 from the town I was previously in. I am now on that train.

Also in the bag were 63 euros or about $90 Canadian. Also in the bag was the book, Journey to the Centre of the Earth, in French. There was also a picture of an old man holding a baby and a note card with an address in Brussels written on it.

I decided it might be an adventure to take the satchel to the address on the card. I promise not to spend the money in the satchel. I did, however, use the train ticket. Last night I slept on a bench in the train station. In the morning I bought a razor and a toothbrush and toothpaste at a little essential shop in the train station. I tried to make myself look nice in the train station loo.

The train ticket is first class. I feel a little bad about using it. I am currently sitting in a really nice train seat enjoying German style pancakes and writing this diary entry manually on a note pad. I am wondering if the owner of this satchel is/has arrived in Brussels safely. I wonder if he/she bought another train ticket and is currently on the train with me. I could go around asking if the satchel belongs to anyone, but that might spoil my fun.

I need a haircut. I am starting to look somewhat like France. Especially before I shaved this morning.


	14. Chapter 14

The Author is grounded, so there cannot be produced a full chapter today or tomorrow. The story arch about the lost satchel will be finished on Saturday. My apologies.

I can write a little bit.

Now cueing Mattie to start writing.

Am I old fashioned? Do I sound old fashioned? I know I am not as hip as America, but am I caught up with the times? I know I am a little bit withdrawn into myself, but really, with the way I have been treated, what can you expect? Forget it. This isn't even a real diary entry.

With the train passing through the French countryside, it was bringing back memories of my early childhood being raised by France. I know a lot of people judge France as a pervert, but he was a good Father/older brother figure for me. He taught me lots of valuable lessons. When I was bought by England, England had no time for me because Little America was such a handful. I think I may have been neglected. I don't know what exactly makes forgetfulness cross the line into neglect. It wasn't England's fault. I respect England very much, but I don't even once remember him hugging me. I suppose, in the end, being bought by England was a good decision, if not, my people might not get to enjoy the privleges they have today.


	15. Chapter 15

I am so sorry that I have not updated since forever. It is not my fault i did not have access to the internet. Okay, maybe it is a little bit my fault.

The date is irrelevant.

I have returned to my home in Toronto.

Just assume that the following conversations are in French.

So, about what happened when I tried to returned the satchel. After I got off the train, i started asking people if they were familiar with the address on the card. I had no such luck. I couldn't even find out if it was a residential or business address. Then I hailed a taxi cab with much difficulty to get one to notice me. I showed the driver the address. He knew where it was.

"What is the business that you have at this address?" the taxi man asked.

"I am hoping to return a piece of lost property."

"Are you from Canada? I have a cousin in Canada."

"Yes."

" You see, I can tell by your accent. Welcome to Brussels."

The taxi stopped in front of a white painted single level brick house with black window garden boxes and a yellow door. I thanked the driver and exited the car. I walked up to the door and knocked. After a short wait, an elderly, male midget opened the door. Usually when you think of an old dwarf, you think of him having a beard. This one didn't have one. He looked a bit like England if England was a 70 something year old midget. (Just wanted to haunt you with a weird mental picture.)

"You're not the pizza delivery man." He pointed out while looking me up and down.

"Um, hello. Funny story. I found this satchel in a park all the way over in Liechtenstein. I found a notecard with the address of this house written on it. There was also a photograph of a man with a small child in the bag. The man kind of looks like you but bigger." I showed him the picture.

"That is my brother, Derek and his grandson. Derek's in the house right now. He just returned from Liechtenstein not even ten minutes ago. You have brought this bag to the right place. Come inside, we're about to have some pizza and watch Phantom of the Opera. By the way, what's your name?"

"Matthew."

And that's the story of how I became temporary friends with two old Belgian men. I don't expect to hear from them ever again. I find I tend to meet and schmooze with a lot of normal people for one or two days at a time and then I never see them again. Remember Victoria?

Friday, 13 of March, 2015

Why am I so bad at keeping a diary. I haven't written an entry in a fortnight. It's not due to being too busy. I haven't been exactly lazy either. I have been trying to keep a diary since I was really young. I fail so much. I get so excited and overzealous for two weeks and then I loose interest for several more weeks before I pick it up again. Prussia is so much better at journal keeping than me. He almost never misses a day. Actually, scratch that. I read some of his diary and he has such poor writing skills. I think he may only know 4 adjectives. Did you know I completed a degree in journalism some years ago? (This is one of deactivatesandwhich's personal headcanons.)

I have had a certain zit on my chin for a whole month. I have popped it repeatedly, but it just fills back up with puss. I have begun to wonder if it is symbolic of something. Oh woe, the curses of being eternally nineteen. That previous comment was only semi sarcastic. In a few countries, I am not technically legal to drink. Also, I frequently get mistaken for an intern at work. On the flipside, I can eat as much carbohydrates as I want and still have nice abs.

I think that is all I have to say today. I'm going to go on the internet and see what the most popular thing to protest is this week.


	16. Chapter 16

I am still open to suggestions for a plot point. Not for long though because I have an emergency plan because my story shouldn't go more than 3 chapters without a story arch.

Saturday, 14 of March 2015

I met up with Liechtenstein on the previous afternoon. We met over at a Tim Hortons by my house. She arrived late and very confused. I probably could have picked a less obscure meeting place.

"Tim Hortons. Hmm. I have heard about these establishments. It's kind of like the Canadian version of Starbucks, right?" Lili inquired, sounding amused.

"Yeah, come inside." I was delighted to hear she knew something about my culture.

I ordered a maple coffee and Lili ordered a mocha and we both ordered a honey cruller donut.

"What kind of music do you listen to?" I asked.

"I like classical music now and then, but I often listen to poprock and kpop these days. I really like Girls Day." Liechtenstein replied.

"Kpop, eh? That's interesting. I still really like british bands from the sixties, most notably The Beatles, but also The Zombies. I have all the Beatles albums in original record format at home. Some are even signed. Wanna come over to my house and see?"

"I'm not sure if I should go home with you. Big bruder might not like that." Liechtenstein looked uncomfortable.

"You don't have to. I understand the concern, but England taught me to be a gentleman and I would never take advantage of you or hurt you." I said softly. (The author would trust Canada with his/her life.)

"Okay, let's go." She said and grabbed my hand.

"By the way, I may or may not be a good dancer, but I think you'll find out when we get to my house, eh." I told her. "Also be forewarned I live with a talking baby polar bear. He's not dangerous, but stay clear of his claws."

We arrived at my house and I opened the door for Liechtenstein. I immediately began to second guess inviting her over here. There was a pair of jeans laid over the arm rest of the sofa. Half of my books were in a pile in front of the bookshelf. I had left a dirty dish on the coffee table. And then there was Kumajiro. He came running up soon after we stepped inside. Lili let out a yelp and stepped backward into me. Kumajiro sniffed her feet. "Hi girl, who are you?" He questioned. "Hello, I am Liechtenstein." "Who are you, mister?" He asked me.

"I'm Canada." I whisper groaned. Not again.

I walked over to the wooden cabinet in the corner of the living room by the far side of my sofa. I opened up the bottom drawer and showed my guest my record collection. She asked to play the Beatles Abbey Road. I put it on the phonograph on the top of the cabinet and moved the needle. The groovey beat of Come Together started to play and I began to do a fast swaying motion in time with the beat and sang along with the nonsensical lyrics.

"He wear no Shoeshine, he got toe jam football, he got monkey finger, he shoot coca cola, he say I know you, you know me. One thing I can tell you is you got to be free. Come together, right now, over me." I did a little clappy hand shuffle thing at the end of the verse.

Lili giggled. "You dance like a dad, but it's not too terrible."

"How high do you think the Beatles were when they wrote this?"

"I don't know, I don't understand the lyrics. I don't speak English." She admitted.

"They were obviously higher than I have ever been. The lyrics don't make any sense, but I can tell you, that if you lay down on your back while on three times the maximum recommended amount of ibuprofen , the beat will make you think your bed is rocking and you can see vibrating floral patterns on the inside of your eyelids, if you manage not to fall asleep first. But the lyrics still don't make sense. "

True story. Don't try it. Drugs are bad.

No response was given to that. I think I weirded her out.

An hour later we were slow dancing to Chopin. Lili was pressed up against me, she was so petit. I had a strange want to taste her hair. I didn't, but I thought it was a strange urge.

An hour after that we were using Netflix. I was introducing her to My Little Pony, Friendship is Magic. She loved it.

"What time is it." she said suddenly and jumped up off the sofa. "Yikes, I need to go."

I offered to escort her back home. She agreed.

It had been dark for a couple ofl hours when we arrived on the edge of the property Switzerland and Liechtenstein's mutual home. There was still a mile hike ahead of us up the hilly private drive to the mansion, but Lili stopped walking at the beginning of it. She turned to me and wrapped her arms around my torso and laid her head on my chest. "You're weird, I like you." She whispered. "When we go on that hike soon, I will bring some sandwiches." Then she released me.

"And I will bring pancakes and bacon."

I then escorted her up the drive.


	17. Chapter 17

Historically accurate retelling of 1780s-1867. I did my research and wrote this all within 10 minutes. Tip of the hat and a toast with a boot to Himaruya-sensei for always doing his research and creating such funny creative retelling on a weekly basis.

Sunday, 15 of March, 2015

I think I fancy seeing England today. Or tomorrow.

My relationship with him has been positive in general. Positive is the best way to describe it. He was never as fatherly as France nor were we ever bros like I was with America, definitely it was never romantic. It was like he was just doing his job. When he actually remembered to do his job. Until the American Revolution was over, he kind of had his hands full. For a little while after that, he payed more attention to me, but that felt like he was trying to get passive agressive revenge on Alfred. It was necessary attention because pretty much everyone who had been loyal to Britain during the American revolution moved to Quebec or Ontario after the war if they could afford to do so. The French revolution happened and even more French immigrants came and England was temporarily preoccupied with trying to quell the revolution in France. Then England needed my help with The War of 1812 which was basically this:

Britain:Are you done playing grown up, America? I need you back right now.

United States: Never!

Britain:I will make you bloody respect me! Canada, get over here and bomb your brother.

(Subsequent battles frequently fought on my territory.)

No matter what anyone tells you, that is the real reason for the war. True story.

That attention soon ended and I was paid minimal attention to for too many decades. I was a bit lonely, but I had too many other things to think about, like beavers and dying indigenous peoples and trees and eventually my own independence. I achieved that without much of a fuss back on first of July 1867. Papers were signed and stuff.

I feel like there was something peculiar about the particular way I retold those 80 some years of history just now.

I have a funny story from a time when I was invited to the Egremont Crab Fair. Crab as in crab apples, not the marine variety. It has been held in the Cumbria area of England almost every September since the thirteenth century. This particular anecdote took place in the 1790s.

You know how muddy it is in England during September, right? I had decided to camp out on this big muddy hill outside of town and away from the festival. That was a bad choice. It was a pretty nasty hill. I was about to walk down this hill on the day of the Fair when I slipped and started to slide down the muddy hill by the seat of my breeches. It was probably a 4 metre slide at a 35 degree angle. At the bottom of the hill was a road where satan had planned it so perfectly that I collided with a passerby on that road and he started to slip around in the mud and horse poop on the road too. He ended up attending the fair with England and I, both covered in filth. We stayed at the fair doing the weird harvest related activities until I got hit in the eye with an apple stem and needed medical attention because my eye was bleeding.

England and the random fellow and I ended the night getting piss drunk in a boarding house bedroom. I was probably still developing physically at this point, but we didn't worry about health risks back then. Good times.

Yeah, visiting England might be nice. Maybe even France will be there. Some times he randomly shows up to annoy England.


	18. Chapter 18

Monday, 16 of March

I am currently at England's and Scotland's castle. No, I did not just come over, I called first. Yes, He has forgotten I am here. I'll tell you what happened. But first, I have noticed I cursed at least once in each chapter in the first 7 or so chapters of this. I have quit. I am sorry if I have offended you, Mr. Diary. I never cuss out loud, I am much too polite for that, but I cuss a lot in my head. It's Arthur's fault for cussing around his colonies.

As I said, I phoned ahead of time. I arrived at 10:30 (AM in case it is not obvious to the Americans) I knocked on the kitchen door, which is the one most frequently used by England. He opened the door with a towel on his head and his formal dress shirt unbuttoned. He also wore military issue trousers and mismatched chequered socks.

"What do you want, America, leave your brains here again?" He grumbled.

"I'm Canada."

"Oh, what can I do for you love? Come inside." He quickly buttoned up his shirt and tossed the towel in the sink.

He led me into his living room which had probably been just a wide corridor in the old days. I sat down on the plaid sofa under the antique shelf on which sat an old hand made radio and a taxidermy owl.

"How have you been, Canada?" He small talked.

"Fine." I answered.

"Would you like tea or coffee?"

"Coffee, one sugar, please."

"That's unfortunate."

While he was getting me my coffee, a knock came on the kitchen door and France glided in fabulously. He then shared an altercation with England in the kitchen which included some name calling and laughter. When they came back into the living room, England handed France my coffee and said to him "You always let yourself in at the most bloody random times. I need to change the lock on my door." England and France ignored me for the next 15 minutes while they continued to swap stories and insults like a old couple doomed for divorce, So I just got up and went into a different room. I looked around the guest bedroom for a while then I got out my notebook and started writing this.

I will be going on a hiking trip type thing with Lili on Wednesday, so I won't have another diary entry till Thursday. See you then.

(Please review. Let me know how you like it or give me suggestions or something.)


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